Outside the lonely house that screams,
I stand in full light of the moon
and voice my plea for peace.
Words fall like snow and drift to tall trees
who are my only friends.
They hear and shake their outstretched limbs.

Oh, to capture their calm, to still
the gathering storm.

Inside my mind, ideas swirl to life,
form endless rows of snow angels
that awaken and fly too fast to follow.
Lucid thoughts beyond my grasp,
like holy, blinding light, makes me
long for the simple life of trees.